Chapter 23
Skip Ross landed in San Francisco with the early afternoon flight from Washington, on a rainy and foggy November day in 2015.
He then checked in at the Marriott Hotel, close to Union Square, and then waited in the lounge. He had been told he would receive instructions, in due time, for the evening dinner. While in the lounge, he went over the last points with the head of the surveillance squad. The squad was hired to discreetly watch his back and, more importantly, to record and find out all necessary information about the people he was about to meet.
All he knew now, was that the dinner had been called by Charles Daniels, who had recently left Pfizer and set up his own company. Charles did mention that other important people would be present at the meeting, but he did not say anything more over the phone.
At about 6:45 in the afternoon, the text message arrived. It contained the address of Danko’s, a restaurant close to Fisherman’s Wharf, on North Point Street. He had to be there in fifteen minutes, so a taxi was the only option.
As he hailed the first one down, he wondered how it was possible to organize such a meeting in a restaurant. Anyone could eavesdrop....or snap a picture with a smartphone. It all felt really unprofessional to Skip.
The taxi pulled up in front of the restaurant, and Skip noticed that the parking spaces were tight. This meant the van of the surveillance squad would have to keep circling around the block. Maybe his hosts had not been completely all that careless in choosing the location. As soon as he walked in, Skip noticed that the restaurant was half empty and all the people at the tables were Asian. More precisely, they were all thirty-years-old Asian men dressed in dark suits. No one looked at him.
The waiter promptly led him across the restaurant, to a curtain that hid the private reception rooms, where there were three people waiting for him. There was Charles Daniels at the end of the table, an Asian with the looks and manners of a wealthy man, lastly, smiling and politely waving him to the place next to his, there was George McKilroy.
They all shook hands. The Asian man introduced himself simply as Mr. Lee. Then Charles took the floor.
“Skip, thanks for accepting the invitation. Before we start, can I ask you to send a text to your team outside that everything is fine and that they do not have to enter the restaurant?
As you can see, we booked the place for the whole evening to keep unwelcome ears and eyes away. Once you send the text, the bodyguards of Mr. Lee, who are having dinner out there, will switch on their necessary means of protection to make sure our privacy is guaranteed. The dinner will last until nine in the evening. Mr. Lee is still suffering from jet lag and wishes to catch up on his sleep.”
“Alright,” thought Skip, “you managed to create secluded Chinese zone in Central San Francisco.” He waited for a moment and then sent the message. Mr. Lee acknowledged his action with a smile and gave a small nod towards a bodyguard by the curtain. As the intimidating man left, Skip glimpsed all the guards at the tables reach for their phones. In a few seconds, his smartphone went black. Mr. Lee started to talk.
“Let me also thank you for your availability, Mr. Ross. I fully understand that with a job like yours, it is not easy to make room in your agenda on such a short notice. However, the matters we have to discuss tonight are extremely urgent and relevant, for the security of our countries.”
“As you may know, in the past we have introduced some changes - positive changes, I dare say - in the drug market. I do not expect you to approve or even endorse this business, however in the past few months there have been some unwelcome intrusions which we must work together to stop.
Our new competitors in the field, the Russians, made their way into the market by buying a distribution channel from our former partners in the Arab Emirates. They paid by giving the Emiratis unlimited access to weapons of mass destruction. All the evidence is stored here, for your experts to analyze.” He placed a memory card on the table. Then George jumped in.
“Skip, I know you are biased towards our organization, but we realized that the Arabs and the Russians are going too far and we cannot simply take them out of the game with standard drug cartel rules. You know what I mean, the occasional street shoot out and what not. We need to show them that they have trespassed a line they should have respected.”
“Hang on,” Skip interrupted. “I am getting lost in your unclear messages. What do you want me, or better, the United States to do? You want us to fix your drug cartel rivalries by bombing Russia or Dubai? Please tell me I got it wrong. Also, give me a very good reason why I should do it.”
Charles replied, for George.
“Skip, the message is very simple. Mr. Lee and George are losing control of Telomerax production and distribution, to the benefit of the Russians and their Arab allies. Meanwhile, the Russians are feeding the Arabs with stockpiles of nerve gas and other biochemical weapons in exchange for the drug. This basically means that biological warfare arsenals are now growing virtually out of control, because we do not know to whom the Arabs may resell them.
So here is the deal: Mr. Lee and George will re-engineer their manufacturing and distribution chain away from these unreliable partners, but they need your help to disrupt the existing one. In a way that nobody will ever try to organize something like this again, for fear of having the most powerful and resolute United States security agencies against them.”
“Back up,” interrupted Skip again, while he was struggling to remove the shell of a giant fried prawn. “You mentioned you needed security agency intervention, but now you are calling for the Armed Forces. I may agree with the idea, but what exactly do you have in mind? And then, how do you plan to rebuild your network? I don’t think you want to destroy your business forever.”
Mr. Lee smiled. This Texan was not dumb at all, even if he was awful at removing shells from seafood. He continued to expose the plan.
“Mr. Ross, we are thinking about using the fifth secret clause in the Sino-American security treaty, the one that grants Taiwan access to all US weapon systems, public and secret, in case of a danger to their territory. And the system we are thinking about to use is Zeus.”
Skip nearly choked on his prawn. So this Chinese tycoon was aware of the existence of Zeus and thought he had the right to ask for it to be put into action?
“Mr. Lee, with all due respect, assuming there is such a thing as a fifth secret clause in the Sino-American security treaty, you know that Zeus requires presidential clearance on our side to be triggered and head-of-state authority from any foreign country before requesting its usage. Do you think you can arrange all that? And do you know that we will have just a few hours?”
“Oh, we know very well that the system was developed in the aftermath of 9/11 to re-program the route of commercial jets, in case no other option was feasible. All major plane makers, which is to say Airbus and Boeing, provided the NSA with backdoors and activation codes, to seize control of their planes when necessary. So your clearance procedure can indeed go through within hours, provided the right evidence is given.”
“Alright,” Skip said. “You seem to know the procedure. I expect you to follow it properly the day you decide to invoke it. However, you have not answered my second question, how do you plan to re-organize your business after your get rid of your unloyal partners?”
“This is the easiest part,” Charles jumped in. “Thanks to your cooperation and the knowledge of George, we can now make the pills on our own. We strongly believe that in a few years from now, we can evolve the drug into a fully legal one, with obvious benefits for the US.”
“That’s why you left Pfizer, you did not want to share the profits with your old employer,” noted Skip sarcastically.
“It’s the animal spirits and free initiative that made our country great, Skip,” George responded. “Now we have the opportunity in front of us to bring this ground-breaking discovery under an American roof, on an equal footing with our Chinese partners. Personally, I hope it becomes leg
al sooner, rather than later. True, illegal stuff has much higher profit margins and creates alot of opportunity for the black market, but I am counting on you to help us bring this out in the open.”
Skip looked at the clock. There were five minutes to nine. Between prawns, small talk, and the main topic, time had flown. He stood up, shook hands with Mr. Lee, and concluded the meeting.
“Gentlemen, let me summarize the interesting conversation we had tonight. I agree we need to send a strong signal against to stop the Russians and the Arabs meddling with weapons of mass destruction. You will always have us on your side for this. For the rest, let me be very clear; if you get into trouble with the Drug Enforcement Agency, the FBI or even a county sheriff, during your, um...new business venture, don’t even think about mentioning my name. I will side with them. Finally, I have to admit that prawns are not that bad, once you manage to peel them.”
He left the restaurant, followed by Mr. Lee and his platoon of bodyguards. Charles and George remained alone at the table, looking at their empty glasses of wine.
“We did not tell him that the Telomerax we are going to make is not the original one, but a derivative,” said George.
“Forget about it, he would not have understood at all. It took me one entire day to listen to the explanation of Dinesh on how and why the two drugs were different. The key point, is that the cocaine interaction and the anti-aging effect is maintained. By the way, thanks again for joining our venture. Without you, we would have never made it. Were things so bad with your old team?”
“Well, you know, it’s a bit like your own situation. Why did you make the decision to leave Pfizer? You were powerful and respected, after all.”
“Because I increasingly felt I would be better off outside. I felt more and more out of sync with my team mates. And then a new opportunity showed up to leverage my knowledge, and..”
“You see?,” interrupted George, as they walked out of the restaurant. “Just like my case. On a more personal note, after more than ten years away, I was really missing San Francisco and Silicon Valley. This is my hometown after all, even in the foggy rain of November.”
A car slowly stopped by the roadside, and the driver waved to Charles. He said goodby to George, opened the door, and entered the car.
“Hi Sally, how are you doing? I was just about to tell George that you were one of the reasons I left Pfizer, because you cannot work in a place where you are dating your assistant, but he did not let me finish the sentence!”
“I am always great when I am with you, darling! How did you dinner go?”